Funny, how after CKirk’s murder, then the Middle East “peace” deal, we end in an almost exhausted state in the news stream.
In the USofA, DJT never sleeps.
We hearing smart voices, intelligent talking heads, like Tucker and Candance, from the edges. Guys like Rogan create their own “space”. All say something worth hearing.
We see the Burn and AOC talking nonsense while holding hands. The smiling Satan, Mama’sdumi is polished and slick, like Gruewson, and just as dangerous.
The aged Elite like Pelosi and Schumer try to maintain some momentum, but their age and infirmities show. Their time is running out. Thankfully.
Here in the Land of Aus, Albo has not been seen or heard from for days, a couple weeks. He is going to get reamed in DC.
Ms Wrong Wong is laying low, as her administration’s foundations crumble.
While saintly Bowen keeps dumping money into cronies pockets pretending he is saving the planet. And Burke imports even more faithful Labor voters, to save the ALP day.
And… Ms Pauline and Mr. Barnaby are joining forces. With any luck they shall be Australia’s solution to the damage done over these past many years by both L & R political parties.
The street parties/ riots I watch happening world wide, look like European soccer matches, the ones in the 80s. Where each game was a huge, violent “party”. The people who went to the International matches just for “fun”, not for the enjoyment of the game, were called “Hooligans”.
At those “events” folks wore their scarves and caps, their uniforms, identifying them as supporters of a their team. They’d prepare and plan for a violent encounter with their rivals. In 1985 we saw… “Thirty-nine spectators—mostly Italians and Juventus fans—were killed in the subsequent crush, while 600 more were injured.” It was a clash between the visiting Liverpool and the Juventus teams. A deadly clash.
It wasn’t about politics. It wasn’t about money, wealth, oil, rare earth, or religion.
It was about hooliganism.
It wasn’t about my soccer team vs your soccer team, or a bad Referee call, or anything pertaining to the sport.
It was about tribalism.
Participants would prepare to travel, to be violent, to cause trouble, to be vandals, to fight their tribal rivals. Who also prepared the same.
Today I am seeing a range of flavours, a range of different violent groups who do the same.
From ANTIFA, to BLM, to Free Palestine, to Anti-Trump, to Anti-ICE, to…
If indeed there are dark forces, malevolent entities, interacting with mankind, processing and controlling humans with evil intent, and maliciousness… There are clearly visible here in the Land of Aus…
I do reference the vile comments Lidia Thorpe recently made, BUT… I am specifically referencing Australia’s fearful leader, The right dishonourable Albo.
Where is he? What is he doing?
Is he hiding or being held captive by those evil, dark, malevolent forces?
I’m certain he is not… solving the housing crisis, fighting inflation, overseeing new infrastructure projects, managing the needs to returned service men and women, negotiating meaningful trade deals, planning for the future defence and security of the Nation, nor doing much at all meaningful or pertinent.
What dark forces are holding Super Albo bound? Refusing to allow him to use his might, intelligence, to experience to address, solve, remediate the numerous pressing matters on our Nation’s To-Do list.
Australia’s To-Do list is long, pressing, important.
Ive been working on a few new sticks. Spending time “whittling” is good for me. I quietly think through the happenings of the day, inventory my mental stores, set new targets, rehash ongoing dramas.
And, as an old fart with a very large tribe, there are many, many ongoing dramas to rehash every day.
My “thing” with this work is to create useful (very useful) tools out of waste wood.
The Acacia is a tree that went down a couple years ago here on the farm. I have a couple life times of Acacia pieces hanging, drying in a shed.
The hard wood comes from old fence posts, old split rails, massive pieces of almost petrified hard wood buried in the mud, exposed by the floods. I harvest (scavenge) the old stuff. Store it. Sweat my heart out to cut and size this stuff.
I like hand tools… spoke shave planes, rasps, checkering tools, chisels and various cutting tools all slowly whittle my sticks into shape.
The wood is so, so hard, dense. Almost iron like. My blades and bits do not last long on this stuff…
I have a couple big trees buried in the swamp I need to dig out. The place is drying out and I have a few really good prospects I want to get to work on…
The two sticks I’m working on dont have a home yet.
Been a while since I just made a stick. Normally I am behind schedule on getting sticks to old friends in need. I name all my sticks, normally aligning the name with the person. Thus far there has been Thug, Copper Head, Barb, Granny Glide, Peregrination, Little Bird, Le Doktor, and more.
All my sticks come tailor made for the person I am working for. Size, shape, weight can all be managed through design and material use.
All my sticks are weapons. I normally make either a knobkerrie (shileleh) style, or a standard T-handle style. I like using bone, brass and antler.
All my sticks are interesting composite creations that will last a couple life times…
PerigrinationBarb and Granny Glide
The finish product is always, in my mind, a work of art…
A career in the US Navy, a life time of substance abuse, by the age of 75 he’s reaching the end of his road. No wife or kids. He spent the past many years caring for our parents who lived into their 90s.
Emphysema, lots of motor-skill issues, more substance abuse… he has ceased being able to care for himself. He was taken to the ER, hospitalised. It was determined he could not go “home”. So the System went to work for him…
His military service, his years of private sector work, all made him eligible to go into care at no financial burden to the family. He spent a life time pre-paying, preparing for this. He gets to stay in the community where he lives. He has family close. He is not being isolated or forgotten. He keeps much of his freedom.
They even let him enjoy a cigarette, but he has to wheel himself across the street, “off campus”. The System is working.
And color me shocked, amazed, gob smacked… The System works. Damn!
This is the System(s) that we Citizens have paid for.
Paid for throughout all our working lives.
This is the System that the Liberal Left side of politics, our Social Democrats, has worked to dismantle. Worked hard to dilute.
The System(s) we Americans have invested in, paid for, supported throughout our working careers, are close to collapse.
I suggest that we, We Americans, fight to ensure the System(s) we have invested in all our lives, and expect to be available “when the time comes” are maintained, supported, funded.
Not dismantled by social working, do-gooder, left leaning socialist ideals. It is a worthy fight.
I have many reasons to be interested in what happens in the Pacific Islands. My sense of History tells me the Pacific is important. We saw in the 1940s how the pivot point in the WW2 pacific theatre was Solomon Islands. East to West, North to South the Pacific theatre was and remains strategically and economically important.
I moved to Solomon Islands 44years ago. Unknowingly, at the time, it was to become my home. I had a 2year contract, thought I’d be away for 2years, no more. But life leads us on circuitous adventures, thats for sure!
In the early 80s the USofA still had a good “name” in the Pacific. I traveled over those early years, visited most of the Pacific Island Nations, talked to folks wherever I went. The overall attitude towards the “West”, the old Colonial Powers, the US, England, France, et al was very positive. The memory of WW2 was still alive then.
As the memory of WW2 faded, the affinity, the friendship, the positive relationship between old allies faded as well.
When I arrived in the Solomons, the US Embassy was an important fixture in the Community. The biggest diplomatic delegation then was the British High Commission. The Yanks were 2nd largest, Aussies were there but smaller. Diplomatic events were regular and fun: The arrival of a Naval Vessel, Melbourne Cup, 4th of July, 7th July, ANZAC Day… All saw the Embassies and High Commission contribute to what would always be a good event, a fun social celebration.
Into the 1980s and the US Embassy pulled out, US Offices in PNG took over the Solomons. The Brits started downgrading, the Aussie’s started building.
By the 90s it was all changed… No US Consular Offices. Brits had a small office with few staff. The Aussies were building a new, big High Commission. They increased their staffing numbers. It was evident that Australia was claiming custodianship over the Solomons, over the Pacific.
The 90s saw Civil Wars spread through the Pacific Islands… PNG/ Bougainville, Solomons, Fiji all saw protracted, still ongoing, conflict and tension. From 2000 to current Australia has been involved in what is called “Peace Keeping” duties in the Solomons.
Was Moti illegally abducted and sent to Aus for trial? It’s a big, long story worth a fair bit of study. I was never a fan of Julian Moti, I thought him to be a sleaze, And I do believe the Aussie Authorities in Honiara at the time used strong arm (illegal) tactics to remove Moti and his family from the country.
That was all in 2011. The then Solomons Prime Minster took it all as a person insult. The Aussies never had a firm foothold after that.
By 2020 the PM and his Cabinet decided to cease recognition of Taiwan and support and court relations with China.
Five years later China holds hegemony.
In recent years the US and Aus have tried, through cheque book diplomacy, to bring the Pacific island nations back into the “western” fold. Yet, as recent events in PNG show us, Aus has lost influence.
I speak as a Solomon Islander…. Islanders are simple folks. Islanders have simple needs. Islanders respect strength. Islanders despise weakness.
I do not think Mr Albo has much of a chance to regain popularity and influence in the Pacific Theatre.
Seasons have shifted here in QLD. After a mild and wet winter we’re heading into summer, which is predicated to be wet. More wet. Still wet. It’s been wet for a couple years. I blame it on Glow Ball Warming…
My house if filled with noise, messes, dog turds and little kids… Its great! This morning we have 2 children, 3 puppies, 4 dogs, one mother, one grandmother and an old fart in residence.
I shall admit that I am rather amazed, surprised, sorta… the doubling down of the Albo regime on the Great Green Scam, as most of the world is waking up from the bad dream that is the green-scare.
Tim Flannery & Co. have managed to maintain their positions as acolytes to the great green scam, but for how much longer? If you don’t know who Tim is remember that: Tim Flannery has made several public predictions, notably forecasting an ice-free Arctic summer between 2010 and 2030 due to ongoing climate trends. He also warned in 2005 about Sydney’s extreme vulnerability to water deficits if the prevailing drought conditions continued. Additionally, he made the observation in 2007 that hotter soils during a drought were preventing rain from filling dams, a comment he made as Australia’s Chief Climate Commissioner.
So after a whole bunch of “the sky is falling” BS, and way too much wasted time, energy, money, resources and more… we are “Back On The Road Again”… here in the Land of Aus that is…
As the rest of the world is shaking off the mental illness that is Suicidal Climate Hysteria, Albo &Co. are doubling down.
They can do a bunch of damage in the time they have left.
I was discussing mundane matters with a very old friend, enjoying each other, discussing a walking stick I recently made for him… I make sticks for my “old” friends. I harvest ancient trees and fence-wood from the mud in my stream. I like to laminate different woods, shape it down with old fashioned hand tools.
I name all my sticks, and brand them “whittled by mike”…
Some how in our discussion, discoursing on the important earth shattering topic of internet providers and baud rate and cost for connectivity, things got contentious… I commented that after years of living in Rural Queensland, suffering from near to non-existent connectivity, paying too much for too little, I got Star Link…
Well hell! World War 7 started by me mentioning Star Link… “That’s owned by bloody MUSK! Don’t mention that ass wipes name to me. He’s a bloody idiot, a menace to humanity… ”
I venture to discuss, to ask what is so bad, why so negative?
Ethnic tensions in the Solomon Islands, particularly between Malaita settlers and indigenous Guadalcanal residents, escalated into a violent conflict from 1998 to 2003, causing displacement and death. Rooted in land disputes, rising unemployment, and a perceived lack of government support for indigenous Guale people, the conflict saw the emergence of militant groups like the Isatabu Freedom Movement (IFM) and Malaita Eagle Force (MEF). The situation was worsened by weak governance, corruption, and widespread possession of leftover WWII armaments. Peace was eventually restored with the assistance of the Australian-led multinational Regional Assistance Mission to the Solomon Islands (RAMSI) peacekeeping force in 2003
The info herein states 1998 to 2003 but that not correct. Much of what is written about this topic is jaded, skewed, simply wrong.
Nonetheless, In those years I lived daily in a minor state of “apprehension”. Not fear, but a state of heightened awareness. I lived armed. I am not a gun toting kinda guy, but I refuse to be exposed to the point where I can be kicked to near-death (It happened to others), thus I always and all ways was armed… A couple knives, my steel toed boots, and ax handle behind my car seat. I am a dog-guy and my amazing Rottweiler, Asia, was often by my side.
The reason I reminisce is I learned a couple interesting and important lessons in those days… 1) Speak softly 2) Listen intently 3) Act purposfully
When we are all yelling and pounding our chests and baying like hounds, no one can understand what we are saying
And if I do not listen to you, intent-fully hear what you say, I have no clue what you are saying. I can’t understand you by only hearing every other word. Nope, don’t work that way. It’s not communication, it’s confusion.
To become frightened or confused means to lose cool, to lose poise and balance. To become reactive, not proactive. Reactive is not as good as proactive.
And when the words stop, when dialogue ceases, when listening become too hard…
The word hysteria originates from the Greek word for uterus, hystera.
Hysteria is a term used to mean ungovernable emotionalexcess and can refer to a temporary state of mind or emotion. In the nineteenth century, female hysteria was considered a diagnosable physical illness in women. It is assumed that the basis for diagnosis operated under the belief that women are predisposed to mental and behavioral conditions; an interpretation of sex-related differences in stress responses. In the twentieth century, it shifted to being considered a mental illness. Influential physicians the likes of Sigmund Freudand Jean-Martin Charcot had dedicated research to hysteria patients.
I think back into my youthful life and recall one particular family member that would not play, not finish a game, if they were not winning. I grew up in a family that played games… card games, board games, we always had a big jigsaw puzzle on a folding table in a corner. You get the picture…
I think to a game of Monopoly we were playing, circa 1970. A group of four or five of us, we’re on the floor, around the board, playing a marathon game.
My dear relative I am characterising always had issues losing at anything. To the sad point where it was family-slang to “make sure you let him win or he’ll cry”.
There we are… on the floor, rolling dice, supposedly having fun, coming towards the end of the game.
Someone is going to win and someone is going to lose, and that someone is the bad loser…
He tosses the board in the air, scatters the plastic houses, paper bills and metal pieces. He causes chaos, refuses to let anyone, but him, win.
We were having fun one minute, the next is anger and emotion and confusion.
I am watching the reaction(s) to this past week’s sad, stupid, wasteful shooting of Charlie Kirk.
It is sad… very sad… but very sadly expected.
I shan’t name names or give despicable folks a free byline. Those same saintly talking heads that spread the fear and angst by using words that ignite, incite and poison. They proclaim daily there is a threat, a dire situation leading us to the pending loss of personal freedoms. They state day after day we ARE AT WAR!
And we act shocked when some poor, deluded, mentally ill “kid” acts out the fantasies being purveyed and marketed by our supposed elite.
Like a fart in an elevator, we hear many folks trying to convince us “it wasn’t me”.
But it’s not going to sell.
Lots of prominent folks are complicit, 100% complicit.
When I was in school, grades 6, 7, 8 I was placed in a couple advanced classes. Or, rather, as a 6th grader that was a reader, I was put in classes with 7 and 8 graders reading to my level.
One of my classmates was an 8th grader that weighed 250lbs/120kgs. Named “Terry” by his family, everyone called him “Fuzzy”.
Now Fuzzy was from a big, big farming family. He had a couple big brothers, and they were big like him. He had so many cousins I’d venture to say half the school were his relatives. They were all big. I believe/ recall his father went by the nick-name of “Angus” because he was built like an Angus bull.
And Fuzzy decided early on that he didn’t like me. Hated the idea that I sat next to him in a couple classes. He tormented me physically.
But I learned quickly my wit and words were greater weapons/ tools than Fuzzy’s braun.
Rather than complain or cry when Fuzzy “hurt” me (which was often) I’d use my impressive 6th grade vocabulary to give Fuzzy a verbal left-right. I often stalled the torture Fuzzy doled out by confusing him, perplexing him, angering him with words. If I got the words right I’d have Fuzzy embarrassed in front of our peers, I’d get him to flush red and walk away as the peanut gallery snickered and laughed, at Fuzzy’s expense.
I learned then to stand up for myself. What Fuzzy wanted was for me to wilt, to cry, to be a baby. Though he could hurt me, and he did, I normally scored points with my words.
I learned then that articulate argument, discussion, exchanging of words was important, essential.
All those years ago I learned that I could both defend myself with words, and control much of my situation by having the ability to string meaningful words together in a sensible, clear manner. It’s called being articulate.
My old friend, Fuzzy (he has passed away https://www.reifffamilycenter.com/memorials/terrance-oloughlin/1994469/obituary.php) did not have the foundation to compete with my 6th grade vocabulary. He did not have the words, nor the ability to string the words together. So he hurt me. He hated the idea that this much smaller kid, much younger kid could better him in any way. He had no foundation from which to argue with me. His only recourse was physical. He had no articulate rebuttal, ever.
So, in our modern world of confusion, angst, and division, Charlie Kirk, a gentle, peaceful activist is shot dead because someone did not have the foundation to argue, face-to-face. To exchange words and ideas. To interact in a human and humane manner.
Nope, easier, much easier to shoot and kill that which you don’t agree with.
And for far, far too long the USA has been slipping into the realm of silent antagonism where I cant talk to you and you cant talk to me.
In Charlie Kirk’s own words, “When discourse ends, violence begins.”
Sad to wake and find another, yet another senseless act of frustrated aggression in the USofA…
I say frustrated aggression because I see and hear far too many folks become angry and aggressive when faced with honest, open, factual discussions. Their inability to deal face-to-face with the facts, and their emotions, leads to foolish, sick, acting out of violent, evil fantasies.
This time round, a 31 year old political activist and commentator, Charlie Kirk, was cowardly shot dead.
I have discussed the angst and frustration I witness regularly.
I’m going to have a good-rant about the folks out there that are so constipated on TrumpDerangementSyndrome that they cease making real sense. Those folks, we all know some, that cant say “Trump” without spitting, and sputtering, and frothing at the mouth.
I started this by thinking I’d write about 3 near-and-dears, but I thought of a 4th…
#4: FUCKINGDUMFUCKERSTUMBLEBUMBDISHITRICHBOYPERVERTEDNAZI… I have just exposed too much. If you know my friend, what I just wrote will make perfect sense to you.
#3: I dont watch the news, I dont pay attention, the news makes you stupid, I don’t even own a TV, dont have time for all the nonsense, did you hear what Trump did, the new jet will belong to him, Trump and Musk are stealing all OUR money, Trump is deporting US citizens…
#2: Trump is evil, Trump is Satan, Trump is evil, Trump is Satan, Trump is evil, Trump is Satan, Trump is evil, Trump is Satan, Trump is evil, Trump is Satan, Trump is evil, Trump is Satan, Trump is evil, Trump is Satan…
#1: You see what fucking Trump is doing? No one to pick veggies and collect eggs, so everything is going to be more costly. And those fucking tariffs, how can we live without cheap Chinese goods? Trump plays golf everyday, he’s spending a billion dollars on parade, I’d rather spend money on Sesame Street…
Each of these individuals resist or blatantly refuse to discuss anything, ANYTHING, that may be contrary to their delusion.
When gently confronted with facts, yes those pesky facts that always get in the way of a good delusion, #1 yelled at me “Idontwannatalkaboutthat”. #4 refused to engage when I asked a) if the Biden era was better, and b) if an extra 20million illegal aliens was a positive. #3 laughs almost gleefully when describing how fucked up and chaotic the world will be after “Trump has his way”.
Very sad. And I remain perplexed how smart, engaged folks can so quickly slip into derangement on certain topics.
So today, 11-09-2025, a young man’s life is taken because a coward could not take the words he was saying. A young man is dead, his young wife and two babies are grieving, as some inadequate, frightened, coward is thinking he is a hero.
He is not.
And those that celebrate the murder and applaud the murderer are low-life, weakling cowards.
Still aiming to figure out why… Why the Muslim neighbours of Palestine are reluctant, resistant to “help” the people stuck in Palestine. Those same poor souls that are locked behind fences by the evil Zionists. Those same poor souls being bombed and killed as they take refuge in hospitals and schools….
I have been trolling for words about this. There is a lot to read but little of real pertinence that explains to me why, how and when… why are Palestine’s neighbours not flocking to succour those poor souls suffering what is deemed to be A Genocide? How come the nearby kin folk of those held captive on their own land don’t rush in and assist? When can those suffering expect some assistance by those close at hand?
This is a picture of the barrier between Gaza and Egypt:
The best I can do is research the historical context herein:
Arab countries refuse to accept refugees Jordan’s King Abdullah announced immediately after the October 7 attacks that Jordan and Egypt would not accept refugees from Gaza. “That is a red line,” he said.
Similarly, Turkey and Qatar, both state sponsors of Hamas, are refusing to take refugees even as both countries express support for the Palestinians. Algeria, Kuwait, and Malaysia are openly siding with Hamas but have not said they would admit refugees.
Egyptian President Abdel Fattah Sisi made his toughest remarks yet on the war about Palestinian refugees from Gaza, saying Israel’s military campaign was not just aimed at fighting Hamas, which rules the Gaza Strip, “but also an attempt to push the civilian inhabitants to … migrate to Egypt.”
And…
Arab hesitancy to accept Palestinians from Gaza Displacement has been a major theme of Palestinian history. In the 1948 Israeli Independence War, an estimated 700,000 Palestinians were expelled or fled from what is now Israel. Palestinians refer to the event as the Nakba, Arabic for “catastrophe.” In the 1967 Six-Day War, when Israel seized the West Bank and Gaza Strip, 300,000 more Palestinians fled, mostly into Jordan. The refugees and their descendants now number nearly 6 million, most living in camps and communities in the West Bank, Gaza, Lebanon, Syria and Jordan. The diaspora has spread further, with many refugees building lives in the Gulf countries or the West.
Egypt fears history will repeat itself, and a large Palestinian refugee population from Gaza will end up staying for good. Their refusal is rooted in fear that Israel wants to force a permanent expulsion of Palestinians into their countries and nullify Palestinian demands for statehood. El-Sissi also said a mass exodus would risk bringing militants into Egypt’s Sinai Peninsula, from where they might launch attacks on Israel, endangering the two countries’ 40-year-old peace treaty.
Jordan was one of the countries to receive large numbers of Palestinian refugees when at least 700,000 Palestinians fled or were forced from their homes around Israel’s foundation in 1948.
Jordan, which clashed with the PLO and expelled it under similar circumstances in 1970, already hosts more than 2 million Palestinian refugees, the majority of whom have been granted citizenship. Israeli ultranationalists have long suggested that Jordan be considered a Palestinian state so that Israel can keep the West Bank, which they view as the biblical heartland of the Jewish people. Jordan’s monarchy has vehemently rejected that scenario.
There are many such discussions online. I am not the only one trying to figger this all out…
Golly, 2nd day of the 9th month. Skies are powder blue. Air is still. I can feel the seasons changing.
In the USofA, this weekend is the Memorial Day holiday. Traditionally the last holiday of summer. Memorial Day marks the last big party before the winter winds return. The end of summer, the start of fall… Halloween and Thanksgiving are the next things to look forward to, in the USofA.
Here in the land of Aus, as the season changes from nice but chilly – to nice but warm… We would normally be preparing for the “wet season”. But…. BUTTT… since we have not seen a “dry season” for a couple years, I shall content my self to prepare for the coming “wetter season”.
And reports predict “wetter than normal” weather patterns coming.
I blame it all on GlowBall warming…
But on what do we blame the insane double standards we see in the recent, large protests here in Aus?
An Aussie, marching in support of your homeland, is a bigot, a racist, a white supremacist.
An Immigrant, marching in support of a terrorist regime, is a martyr, a saint, a good guy.
The media portrays the recent Sydney Harbour Bridge “Pro-Palestine” march as a glorious party, including families, small children, dogs and old folks… https://bbc.com/news/articles/clydnvw1dg5o
You can profess solidarity with the folks holding hostages, wrap a checkered scarf over your face, pretend you are Yasser Arafat. Carry the Palestine flag, chant slogans, demand sharia law, and promise jihad, and be thought a thoughtful, sensitive valuable human.
But…. BUTTT… Carry an Australian flag, call for less immigration, lower house prices, less violence in the streets, better schools and… well hell! I guess being patriotic aint cool any more.
There is much to be said about the modern world and the shift from wanting, demanding safety, security, education, medical care and the ability to grow, build, and develop the society in a positive vein – To a retrograde development to a tradition time where women have no rights, children are chattel, and violence is a legitimate response to difficult times.
In this situation, after the loony liberal left back the conservative muslims, thinking we’re all fine and friends and diversity is our strength… the conservatives kick the liberals where their testicles once were.
What did they expect?
What does the world expect?
Expect from a group that proclaims death to the Western world, Western values, Western religion.
For my money, I say listen to the words. I dont think either side is lying.
My favourite month is near its end for the year 2025. Only one day left and we waltz into September. The year is all down hill from there.
Too, winter’s end is upon us here in the land of Aus.
It is blustery, chilly, and sunshiny outside. A southerly is bringing freezing winds to much of the land.
The old house is complaining. Making a lot of noise.
When we first moved here I told the grandkids the house was haunted. All the sounds, and rattles and moaning, it sure sounded like it was haunted.
In QLD houses are less insulated, less wind proof, much less so than a house built in Iowa… No double glazing here. The Windows rattle, the house moans in the hearty gusts.
Iowa builds to withstand subzero temps and snow-loads on the roof. Galvanised roofing material is reserved for sheds. Houses get built thick, strong, heavy … Nothing like the sub-tropical design of houses here in Aus.
So I sit inside. Was out a while ago but its simply too windy to get much done… I’d like to do some weed spraying, but it’s way, way too windy.
I know some folks out there will think that the use of herbicides like “Round-Up” is evil, bad, wrong.
I say this: Folks that believe such know little or nothing about land management.
I know I’ll get challenged for my statement, but the fact remains that passive control of invasive weeds does little to no real good in managing the spreading of such. Key invasive weed species in Queensland include common culprits like Lantana, Parthenium weed, Camphor Laurel, Giant Rat’s Tail Grass, and various water weeds such as Water Hyacinth and Alligator Weed. These plants crowd out natives, impacting grazing lands, and reducing water quality.
I know a few “Organic” farmers that think land management excludes the use of herbicides.
These self same farmers live on land overrun by weeds. And once the weeds get ahead of you, it’s a costly exercise to claw control of the land back. A couple of my neighbours have let their property go wild. In the 8 years we’ve been here we have had professionals come and spray 3 times. It is a constant, never ending story that some folks dont want to hear.
I use a combination of slashing/ mowing and herbicides. I can manage most of my front-20 with mowing. I spray the ditches and fence rows. Mow the rest, when its dry enough.
Right now, in my back-80, I have lots to do… I have left it way too long… The floods of recent times have removed my roads, my crossings over the steam that runs the length of my property. I need the roads to put my machines to use.
I last rebuilt the main crossing 18 months ago. We did a good job. Ended up with a great result, only to watch the floods wipe it out and carry the expensive culverts down stream…
after the crossing completeafter the floods wiped it all out
I was very proud of that crossing… I’d designed it so the “road” acted like a diving platform… I’d dug a nice deep pool on the downward side of the stream. Layered the culverts so in low-flow times all was cool, and in high-flow times things were cool too… Was planning to put steps in and out of the pool for the kids. The 1st pict above is me testing the swimming hole out. The second is the same location showing the result, only a few weeks later, of hydrostatic forces not being friendly.
A week ago it was dry enough to take the digger back and create a little weir/ crossing. As soon as the winds die down I’ll get back there, nuke the weeds.
This past week I have been clearing the many drains on my property…
The idea is to allow the water to drain away, to not build up too much pressure on the in-flow side of the drains. Another one of those never ending stories…
I am like a kid in his sandbox playing with his toys…
And the beat goes on… marching tot he end of 08 and the beginning of 09-25.
The Native Iowan 
thoughts and opinions